


Bad Bad Things

by RubyCrystalAPasta



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Caring Andrew Minyard, Hallucinations, M/M, POV Neil Josten, Sick Character, Soft Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28113411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyCrystalAPasta/pseuds/RubyCrystalAPasta
Summary: Excerpt: "Neil’s breath was labored and short- he could barely keep his wheezing to a minimum and it felt like his lungs were being crushed by a car jack with every deep drag that he took. It hadn’t been as bad as this earlier- he had been fine, and he would be fine, as long as he got over this, this sickness, whatever it was. He’d dealt with torture, he’d survive worse than a simple cold that had his vision blurring and sweat dripping down his face."
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 2
Kudos: 121





	Bad Bad Things

Neil’s breath was labored and short- he could barely keep his wheezing to a minimum and it felt like his lungs were being crushed by a car jack with every deep drag that he took. It hadn’t been as bad as this earlier- he had been fine, and he would be fine, as long as he got over this, this sickness, whatever it was. He’d dealt with torture, he’d survive worse than a simple cold that had his vision blurring and sweat dripping down his face.

The day had started like any other- the ache in his body from practice the day before always present, a dull headache that could be chalked up to his nightmares giving him a tough time. By the time he had opened his eyes, Andrew had already slipped out of the bedroom, possibly to the kitchen or getting a shower. Neil should have known something was up then- since when did he ever lose where a person was, especially Andrew? 

He pulled himself out of bed and got dressed, his head throbbing as he pulled a shirt on before he padded to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Turns out that Andrew hadn’t been taking a shower, he must have been in the kitchen then, Neil thought to himself as he brushed his teeth. The mint made him gag for a few moments before he was able to spit it out, and then he had some warm water, which temporarily helped with his headache. Not for long, though, but Neil could deal with it.

By the time he made his way to the kitchen, Andrew had demolished half a pint of ice cream, not the best breakfast in the book but always better than nothing. A quick glance at the label said that it was cookie dough- not the healthiest ice cream out there, but there didn’t happen to be the chance of instant death by the pint of it.

“I guess it’s dairy, technically,” Neil spoke with a cheeky grin, pulling the familiar grin out of his partner in crime. Literally?

“What have you eaten today? Nothing? I’m doing better than you already, junkie.” Andrew clicked his tongue in mock annoyance, though Neil knew he wasn’t upset by the way Andrew's hand wrapped into his shirt and pulled him close, a quick familiar question before their lips were pressed together. And that was that, no room for arguing his own case. 

Ten minutes passed in a blur, and then the time for practice came, which always made Neil lose his headaches and focus on the task at hand, made him want to breathe and fight and live. The court. 

Except today, something happened to be different, happened to set Neil off. 

Neil couldn’t explain it, but the pit of his stomach started to fill with anxiety, everything screaming at him that something was wrong and that he needed to run, to fight, to hide like a primal animal. 

Andrew knew that something was off about Neil, he thought. Andrew always knew when something was different about him, or if he was in the middle of a panic and trying to hide it. Neil wouldn’t be surprised if Andrew knew that Neil’s stomach felt the way it did- he could always read him like a book.

That didn’t stop the striker from acting like everything about the morning was normal, and as he got ready for practice, he found that he didn’t have to act much. Andrew left his side for a while to talk to Kevin- something about the credits that they needed to finish their fourth year at campus, while Neil was still a third-year so he didn’t need to be in that conversation and felt fine to just get dressed in the shower stall. 

In the seconds before he pulled on his jersey, Neil felt his chest tighten up, a stabbing sort of pain shooting through his chest and making him wince in pain, his eyes slipping shut as an automatic response to it. He felt like he was coming down with something, especially in the way that chills moved over his body from the tips of his toes to his head, a flash of hot and cold all at once. Neil pushed it away as he finally pulled on his jersey, and then leaned against the wall to slip his shoes on and tie them, grimacing. 

He didn’t want to sit out of practice for something that could be most likely just dehydration, so he hid his discomfort and pain as he left the stall, snagging his helmet’s grating before pulling it on, watching the others who had finished file out of the changing room. Nicky and Aaron were talking about something- more likely Nicky talking to Aaron about something, actually- and he made his way out only to be stopped by the ever-familiar voice of a prick.

“Hey, what’s your deal today?” Kevin asked, holding open the door as Andrew finished tying up his shoes, their eyes now both on Neil’s form. He didn’t realize he was already sweating under the helmet- not like they could see that from where they stood anyway.

“I’m f-” he caught himself before he could even catch a glimpse of Andrew’s annoyed face. 

“Nothing, just need to get a drink of water. Dehydrated.” Neil said, walking out of the locker room and making his way to the water fountain, taking off the helmet to take a long drink. It helped for a few moments before his headache came back, and he grimaced, the pain making it hard to focus. 

It became even harder to focus as Wymack talked about what they would do in today’s practice, and by the time practice got into motion, he was sweaty and found trouble breathing sometimes. He played through it, trying to focus while Kevin snarked at him and he kept getting checks by Aaron, who was only too happy to bring him down. After the fifth time of Kevin getting onto his passes, the stupid insults that Neil had gotten used to began to start up.

“What kind of shitty captain can’t make a simple pass!” 

“Come on, idiot! I’m over here, not twenty feet away!”

“Christ, Josten, do you need glasses?!”

It really grated on his nerves today, every insult bouncing through his head like a kid in a ball pit (don’t ask, Nicky really liked to send him stuff from youtube that Neil watched with absolutely no context at all. The internet held the first place prize for being a terrifying place, really). 

And boy, did the insults get worse after Kevin got fed up with him continuing to let the other players score- it might’ve been a bad thing that Neil couldn’t see their faces, nor really remember many names right now. Sweat was streaming down his face and his breaths were ragged, and his vision blurred to the point that he couldn’t distinguish up from down. 

“Neil!” Lola? No, it couldn’t have been, she was dead, wasn’t she? Why could Neil hear her voice, clear as day, could smell that sickly sweet perfume she wore if he thought about it hard enough. No, she had died. She was dead, Neil had… he had seen her die. 

He snapped into focus as his breaths drew more labored with every step, catching the ball that Andrew flung his way and made his way down the court, dodging past someone- Aaron, maybe? And attempting to score. It was blocked, quite easily, and that seemed to be the final straw for Kevin. 

“What the hell are you doing?! We have a game in two days, and you’re being a shitty excuse for a striker- you can’t even make a simple fucking goal!” Kevin snapped, undoing his helmet and stomping right up to Neil, almost in his face- he’d have to crouch for that. 

Andrew slammed his racquet against the goal as a warning, one that Kevin took a step back for, but he was obviously and rightfully still furious at Neil’s lack of attention span today. 

There were more words, of course there were whenever Kevin happened to be involved, but Neil couldn’t hear them. It was instinct that made him turn away from him, towards the court doors, almost stumbling as he made his way into the bathrooms, locking the door behind him in a feeble attempt to keep some of his privacy before he struggled with his helmet, barely making it to the toilet before retching. 

His body ached awfully, chills wracking his entire body as he crouched by the germ-infested seat, but he couldn’t really hold onto anything else when his legs failed him and he tumbled to the ground, his knees hitting hard. 

He groaned, a soft whimper leaving him as his breath hitched and the world spun in what could only be described as a ballerina’s nightmare. Neil knew something was seriously wrong by now- it couldn’t just be dehydration and goddamnit- he had kissed Andrew this morning. Whatever he had, it could be contagious, and of course, he had kissed Andrew. He was an idiot. 

Once he got some of his strength back and he felt like his stomach wouldn’t betray him at any moment, the striker stood and flushed, getting some water from the sink before a knock on the door startled him, making him jump in fear. Was it his imagination that found similarities between this knock and the one his mother used to do to signal the coast was clear and safe for him to come out of his hiding spot? He wiped the sweat from his brow and washed out his mouth before opening the door, seeing Andrew standing there, an unimpressed look on his face. 

“Let’s go,” was all the goalie said as he took in Neil’s disheveled look, the sweat on his face, and the way that his entire body shook like a leaf in the middle of a strong storm. 

“I’m fine.” Neil protested, knowing that although he was sick, he would be able to practice, that he needed to practice as the captain this year- it was his first year of being captain, he needed to be there for the team, he needed-

“Shut up.” The words were ones that Neil knew not to argue with, the same kind of tone that told Neil there wasn’t room for arguing even if he had wanted to. He only nodded as he followed Andrew to the locker room, getting undressed and into the shower, the cold water helping to cool him down and allow him to think for a bit. He hadn’t realized how warm his temperature had been getting- that would explain the chills, he thought. 

After they had both showered and gotten dressed, Andrew led him wordlessly to the car, and then in a blink- Neil sat in the passenger’s seat of the car. He didn’t remember getting into the car, he didn’t remember putting his seatbelt on, and he certainly didn’t remember the whole car ride to the house in Colombia, where they were now. Andrew was giving him a strange look from where he saw in the driver’s seat, turning off the engine before getting out, prompting Neil to follow him. 

“Why are we here?” Neil asked, not sure if Andrew would give him an answer or if he would just ignore the question or save his answer for later. 

“Something’s up with you. Are you sick?” Andrew asked as he unlocked the door, glancing back at Neil, as if he already knew the answer to the question he asked. Neil wasn’t sure how he should answer, but as it turned out, he didn’t have to. As he took a step into the house, his entire body gave out on him, and he fell, down and down into the abyss of blackness that enveloped his vision. He didn’t even feel his body hit the ground- maybe it hadn’t- but the next thing he knew, he sat there, laying out on the couch, a bottle of water on his chest as he wheezed, a wet-sounding cough leaving him. 

He had to sit up to breathe, chills hitting him hard. 

“Fuckin’ junkie. You should’ve just skipped practice.” Neil’s father chided from where he sat, across the room, which scared a full-body flinch out of him. This couldn’t- it couldn’t be his father. He was dead, he wasn’t here, he couldn’t be here, not in Colombia, not at Andrew’s home. 

“No,” A harsh sob clawed out of Neil’s chest as he stared at his father in growing horror, unable to take his eyes off of him for a moment. 

All logical thoughts had been stripped away, leaving him with the bare instincts that every human had- the instinct to run, to fight, to survive and not get killed. He was shaking- not just from the chills he had now, but from fear as well, knowing that he would die today. His father stood, and he was coming closer, and Neil couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even- 

“Neil. Look at me, you’re safe. I’m here.” How was it that Andrew’s voice came from his father’s figure, that it was Andrew’s hand that settled on the back of his neck to ground him, that it was the same reassurance that Andrew would give him?

“Neil.” Now it really did happen to be Andrew that stood in front of him, pressing his hand against the back of Neil’s neck, and Neil thought for a second that Andrew’s hand was freezing, but it was Andrew. Of course it was Andrew, here, it couldn’t have been anyone else, could it? 

“S-Sorry,” Neil choked out, his chest aching as he drew in as big of a breath as his lungs could handle. He looked away from the goalie with a guilty look- how could he have mistaken Andrew for his father? Of anyone, Andrew would never… He would never hurt him, never kill him inside as being Nathaniel had. 

Andrew said nothing, just handed Neil a thermometer and watched as he put it under his tongue, watched in silence as the results came back and he had a high fever- high enough to excuse the hallucination that mixed up the person he loved with someone he despised so much.

Neil’s headache had come back with a vengeance, everything aching as he shook, useless on the couch of theirs. He was shoved down into a lying position before Andrew moved to the kitchen, getting something, probably, Neil didn’t know. 

He must’ve blacked out for a while, because the next time his eyes opened he could see the orange sun setting outside the windows and the lights in the room were on the lowest settings, which definitely helped with his headache. Andrew stood in front of him, a tray of soup, water, and medicine on the table. 

“Sit up,” Andrew spoke, sending a shooting pain through Neil’s head. He flinched without realizing, but Andrew saw it easily because the next time he spoke, his voice had taken a lower pitch and had become softer, trying to accommodate the situation. 

“You need to drink some water, I made soup and got you painkillers and something for the fever.” Andrew said with a pointed look, making it obvious that he wouldn’t leave Neil alone unless he had his meds and stayed hydrated.

“Thanks,” He hadn’t realized how hoarse his voice had become today, but after Andrew helped him sit up, he took his meds and sipped on the water, the world spinning all the while. 

This continued all throughout the night- Neil would sleep, Andrew would wake him up with water and medicine, and finally, by the morning, the fever had been broken and Neil just felt exhausted. He suspected that Andrew hadn’t slept, by the way that just before he slept, Andrew would move to the other couch so he could keep an eye on Neil while reading or watching a movie or playing on his phone.

It was nearly noon when he woke up the final time, this time to Andrew not in the room. He had been allowed to sleep in, maybe the fever breaking had been a signal for Andrew to sleep. Probably not, when Neil considered the sounds of somebody cooking coming from the kitchen. He stood, wrinkling his nose at the feel of his sweaty clothes, and made his way to the kitchen- which took longer than he’d ever admit. 

“Hey.” He cleared his throat, eyes finally landing on the shorter blond, who did nothing but hand him a water bottle. Neil could see the shadows under Andrew’s eyes, could see that he held annoyance towards the striker but it wasn’t completely his fault that he had gotten sick. 

“You better?” Andrew asked, looking up at him from where he stood at the stove, making pancakes- Neil didn’t have an appetite even if he had wanted to eat. 

“Yeah, I think so.” He spoke, taking a sip of the water before he continued to watch Andrew cook. He did think he was getting better, but… a nap wouldn’t really hurt anybody, would it?


End file.
